


The World Behind the Wall

by marysoljames



Category: Coraline (2009), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Coraline AU, Creepy, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Pink Palace, Sweet, friends - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22919014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marysoljames/pseuds/marysoljames
Summary: John has grown bored of his rural town in Oregon when new neighbors move into the Pink Palace. Things seem to be all fun and games with his new friend Sherlock, but it seems like the secrets of the town are starting to catch up with them and their adventures.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in a long time but I thought it just wasn't right to leave this one in my ever-growing archives. I'm really proud of this one and, hopefully, I actually finish it but don't judge me if I don't I already have friends for that.

John woke to the sound of a car door being slammed. Curiosity made him rush to the window and look outside. The short boy peeked out to get a look at the people moving  into the giant pink building down the road. No one had moved into this town in years, and if someone did, everyone knew. The small town rarely got new visitors , let  alone  new residents. 

When John had seen the moving trucks the day before , he  had  raced to ask his grandmother  countless questions ; she owned the building and rented it out to the rare visitors that did come and stay. She told him the new people were apparently from  S cotland  Y ard and were  t here  on official business. It was a family of four and they had two boys. John had been shocked to hear it was a family with young children moving in  since he knew his gram never rented the place to people with children.

“I didn’t want them to move in,” his gran had admitted, “ b ut money’s tight right now.” That was the only explanation she had given him. 

The blond watched the family of four get out of their car and unpack the few belongings they had brought with them. A stout brunette woman and a tall dark-haired man grabbed some boxes out of the back , and a plump boy grabbed only an umbrella from the back seat. He held himself in a way that showed he knew he was going to be important in the future, chin high, back straight and no signs of emotion on his round face. Lastly , there was a curly - haired boy  who looked extremely displeased with the world as he grabbed what looked like a very heavy suitcase from the trunk. 

John slowly moved over to the latch and risked cracking open the window, but only slightly, so he could  hear the family speaking.

“Why did we have to move here ? ” the curly one whined . “ T here’s nothing to o exciting happening here. It’s just normal and boring”

_ You’re telling me,  _ John thought .

“Sherlock, there’s plenty going on here,” replied the wom a n John assumed was  ‘ Sherlock’s ’ mother . “The landlady said that the people in the other flats are entertainers.”

He rolled his eyes . “So you want me to go and make friends with a couple of frauds?” 

“Sherlock ! ” his parents cried in unison. The boy shot a smirk back at his upset parents and went into the house. 

The family disappeared one by one into the Pink Palace, the name given to the flamingo pink apartment, and left the small road silent again. John went back over to his bed and let himself fall onto it. 

_ Looks like they’re going to be the entertaining ones _ _. _

~

After getting changed, John  went downstairs to join his grandmother for breakfast. John and his sister had moved in with her a few years ago to join her in her little corner of Oregon and hadn’t been anywhere else up until recently when John’s sister decided to go to Florida.

“Good mornin’, Gram,”  g reeted John as he sat down at the table. 

“Morning,” said the withered old woman. “I got a job for you today. Before you go out  on  an y adventure s today, could you clean the spare room for me?”

John groaned, “Do I have to, Gram?” The woman raised a white eyebrow at her nephew . “This is new. You don’t normally complain about chores.”

“The family at the Pink Palace just moved in and I want to go over and -”

_ “ _ _ No! _ _ ” _ shouted John’s grandmother unexpectedly. John jumped in his seat and almost spilled his juice ; he’d never seen  his grandmother get upset like this . 

“Like I’ve told you before, you are _not_ to go near that house! Do you understand me, John?” John nodded his head obediently and began to shrink down in his chair to hide himself. “Good,” John’s grandmother continued. “Now, finish your breakfast and go do your chores.”

The rest of their time in the kitchen was spent in silence as John tried to figure out what had overcome his grandmother 

~

John went into the spare room and was met with a cloud of dust as he opened the door. There  were  tons of old boxes that no one ever touched and a rickety display case that Gram kept a few of her old thing s in. The boy had never been in this room before, mostly because he was always  exploring in the woods, and his curiosity lept farther in the woods. As the blond swept and dusted the room, he would peek into the boxes. Nothing exciting came along until he reached the display case and was met with a familiar face. 

It had jet black hair with messy curls, with two black button eyes to match it, and a dark blue scarf wrapped around its neck. The doll reminded him of the new boy Sherlock at the Pink Palace. John picked up the doll and smirked at the uncanny resemblance between the two. 

“Wonder where Gran picked this up,” he thought aloud. He patted its head to rid it of some dust, put the little doll back in the case, and continued to clean. 

As soon as John had finished his grandmother’s task, he threw on a jacket rushed out the front door and into the foggy day. He grabbed his bike from the side of the garage and went off into the dense forest and followed one of the bendy roads he knew well. 

As he went about his daily ride through the woods, wondering about the new neighbors, John heard a voice.

“-who might  _ you _ be- ? ”

Caught by surprise with the new sound, John turned off the path and onto the mudd i er terrain to see where the voice was coming from. He reached the edge of a  drop-off and looked down to see the dark - haired boy from the Pink Palace.

_ Wonder what he’s doing out here _ _. _

As John leaned forward to get a better look at what was going on, his bike slid on the muddy edge and started barreling down towards Sherlock. 

_ “LOOK OUT!” _ he screamed in an attempt to stop the collision. The curly - haired boy turned and jumped out of the way just in time to miss being hi t . John jumped off his bike and into the mud to prevent himself from causing any more damage. His bike crashed into the trunk of a fallen tree and came to an abrupt stop. The two boy s got up from the ground, completely covered in mud. 

“What the  _ hell _ were you thinking ? ” shouted Sherlock at the blond as he wiped the mud off his face. 

John’s face turned red as he struggled to get up and sputtered, “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean- It was an accident!”   
Sherlock got up and continued to wipe himself off.

“ W here the did you bloody come from , anyway ? ” he mumbled as he followed the trail the bike had left behind. His blue eyes traveled upwards until they reached the spot where John had been watching him. The dark-haired boy turned to John, his eyes turned to slits,  _ “Were you stalking me?!” _

John looked at Sherlock for the first time since he had almost hit him. If possible, the blond took on an even brighter shade of red. “No, I swear ! I was just-”

“Watching me from the edge of those woods,” Sherlock interrupted, pointing at the place John had come from.

“No, I was riding around when I heard you talking to-” John  paused  mid - sentence,  frowning. “Hey, who  _ were _ you talking to , by the way?”

“No one . J ust some cat.”

John looked around for the so-called cat but didn’t see anything else besides them in the clearing. 

“Well, there was a cat.” Sherlock finished. The two boys stood in silence for a moment before John stuck out his hand awkwardly .

“I’m John if you’re wondering.”

The dark-haired boy looked down at the hand cautiously before offering his name. 

“Sherlock,” He said with a halfhearted shake.

“So,” John started uncomfortable with the silence, “what were you doing all the way out here?”

“Nothing,” the dark-haired boy said a bit too quickly. 

John raised his eyebrow at Sherlock, who let out a sigh. 

“I was reading about this place and saw that there was a well nearby.  H aven’t found it  yet,  though.”   
“That’s because you’re on top of it,” answered John. Sherlock looked down and only saw mud leaves beneath his feet. Seeing the confusion on his face, John stepped forward and stomped his foot on the ground, but instead of hearing the slush of mud, as Sherlock expected, there was a deep echo.

Sherlock took a large step back, the sudden fear of falling down the well coming to mind. 

“It’s suppose to be so deep,” John started as he grabbed a stick, “ t hat if you fell in and looked up you would see a sky full of stars in the middle of the day.” The blond wedged the stick between the lid and the ground and lifted the cap, revealing the blackness inside. 

“That’s impossible,” said the blue - eyed boy as he moved closer to the hole to inspect it. The two boys crouched down and looked over the well’s edge and in at the dark abyss that seemed to have no end. 

“Well, I think it’s possible,” said John after a moment of silence . “There’s a lot of weird things like this around here.”

Sherlock lifted his head to look at John . “Really ? ” he  asked with sudden interest. 

“Yeah, if you want , I could show you more.” 

Smiles were on both the boy’s faces. John had explored his entire town, but something told him that the boy with the blue scarf would make things interesting. 

Just as the two were about to discuss plans for their next adventure, they heard a voice echoed in the distance

“JOHN.”

The blond ’ s spirits fell as he heard his gran call ing him .

“I gotta go,” he told the dark - haired boy. He walked over to his fallen bike and started walking it towards a nearby path. 

“John, meet me here tomorrow at noon.” 

A smile filled John’s face as he heard the boy’s proposal to meet again. 

“Alright, see you then,” he shouted over his shoulder as he went off towards his house. 

“And do me a favor and don’t hit me next time ! ” 

John let out a hearty laugh- one that he hadn’t used in a long time 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been gone long going to try and be consistent

Sherlock was filled with energy back at the Pink Palace. Although he’d always liked to work alone on his investigations, something felt right about recruiting the landlady's grandson. Something about John was so familiar and safe, a feeling he’d never shared with anyone before, and Sherlock was curious as to why. He rushed up the stairs to his room and searched for tomorrow’s adventure with John.

Sherlock was scanning through his collection of books when his mother’s voice called, “Dinner’s ready!” 

Sherlock let out a groan ; his mother hadn’t the  _ slightest _ clue how to cook and he had no time for meals, especially now. 

The family sat together at the dinner table  - by family , that meant Sherlock,  M ycroft, and their mother. Mr. Holmes was off on business , but the rest were sat reluctantly around one another in the creaky old kitchen. There was no chatter like in normal family homes , n o smell of spices or elegant - looking foods , n ot even a  single  sign of affection. For the Holmes es there was only foul - smelling sludge that sat on their plates  and  steady silences. Sherlock’s older brother, Mycroft, was stuffing his tubby round face ; he would eat just about everything - including cow dung if it looked good enough. He was a plump boy  who had managed to get all the worst features of the family muddled into one person. Mud brown eyes, coarse brown hair, and a large stubby nose that was almost invisible because of his plump round face.

“So , have you boys visited the neighbors yet?”  t heir mother asked, breaking the silence at the table. 

“No,” said Sherlock, surprised. This was a first. His mother never asked what the brothers did, only criticized what they did wrong.

“Why would we want to meet them ? ” Mycroft added, “ T he man upstairs is a hysterical drunk , and the women in the basement are bonkers!” 

“Mycroft, watch your words , ”  s colded his mother. Sherlock put a hand to his mouth to cover the smile that had crept onto his face. His mother glared at Sherlock, seeing right through his hand. Mycroft wore a smirk on his face and continued eating his slop .

“I’m only being honest, mother ; that  _ is _ what you taught us to do.” 

The table went back into silence. Mycroft shoveled food into his mouth , proud of the disturbance he had caused , t heir mother’s anger almost visible in the air. Sherlock waited for the fuse to burst. The only sound was the slight patter of rain against the window as the clock ticked until… 

_ Knock knock knock  _ __

All heads turned at the noise of the front door, the tension leaving immediately. They all looked back and shared a look of confusion. Who would want to greet _them_ _?_ They weren’t exactly nice neighbors.

Mrs. Holmes started to scooch her chair out to leave when Sherlock realized this was the perfect opportunity to ditch dinner.

“I’ll get it , M um,” he said as he shoved back his chair and started for the door before anyone could object .

Sherlock took his time getting to the door , and when he opened it , he was greeted with a familiar face.

John stood on the front porch , drenched from the rain , hiding something  behind his back. 

“What are you doing here?” Sherlock asked. 

John walked closer to Sherlock , looking nervous. 

_ Why is he nervous?  _ Sherlock thought

“Normally when people answer the door they say hello.”

“That’s only when people want to follow the formalities, I think we’re past that,” Sherlock said with a smirk. The slight nerves seemed to have left the blond and he continued. 

“Right, I wanted to give you something,”  John  started .  “I know this might sound weird, but I was cleaning the extra room this mornin’ and, well, I found something.”

John pulled a package from behind his back and gave it to Sherlock. It was wrapped with brown paper and was slightly damp from the rain. Sherlock took the package and was going to throw it back inside until he saw the look John gave him. The blond’s eyes went from Sherlock to the bag and back to Sherlock.

Sherlock got the message and started unwrapping the gift. As he pulled away the paper he saw a face and body. It was a doll. It had a blue scarf and a black coat and matching curls and eyes.

“Is this me?” Sherlock began ;  everything in hi m told him to give the doll back and run , but he wasn’t one to enjoy unanswered questions. 

“I know what this looks like,” John said , seeing the fear build in Sherlock’s eyes. “I’m not some weirdo that makes dolls of people I me e t , ” he added quickly. “I found it in  G ran’s house and because it looked so much like you. I thought that it would only make sense if you had it.”

The two stood in silence as Sherlock decided what to do. He looked down at John’s hands. If he had made the doll , his fingers would have been pricked and full of cuts. Also, he had only arrived that morning and met this afternoon ; there was no possible way that John could have made this in the few hours that they had met. One look at John’s pleading face was what sealed the deal. 

“Al l  right, I believe you,” Sherlock finally answered.

John let out a sigh of relief, and Sherlock watched his body relax. He started examining the doll closer.

“The resemblance is almost strange,” Sherlock said after giving the doll a good once over. 

“Yeah . ”

The boys stood in silence, both waiting for the other to make a sound .

So...” John started awkwardly, keeping his eyes trained on the floor, “are we still on for tomorrow?” He dug the tip of his shoe into the floor waiting for an answer. “I mean, if you don’t want to after all of this, it’s fine! It’s just\- I thought I should ask, you know. In case you changed your mind.”

Sherlock saw the boy’s cheek s turn pink as he babbled on and on.

Sherlock gave the blond a smirk . “Of course I’m still going, how else am I going to find things around here.”

John’s brown eyes shot up and glowed as he gave a huge smile. Sherlock felt his cheeks turn pink this time and gave John a quick wave goodbye before he could notice.

Sherlock slammed the door shut and stood with his back against it. Never had anybody looked at Sherlock that way, not even his parents, and it made him feel something inside. His heart was beating fast and his body was vibrating, it felt like he could hardly breathe. God , did he hate the feeling yet crave it at the same time.

Sherlock took a few deep breaths to calm himself before returning to the small kitchen. His mother and brother gave the pale boy a glance and continued on with dinner as Sherlock threw out his plate and went upstairs.

~

Sherlock woke up to the sound of a thump. He had fallen asleep on the floor while trying to find a place for him and John to explore. The brunette wiped the drool off the side of this mouth and blinked a few times to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He searched the room for the cause of the noise that had awakened him and saw that the doll John had given him was outside his bedroom door.

_ Mycroft _ _. _

The tall boy rolled his eyes at the thought and walked over to retrieve the look-alike doll. His older brother must have noticed it when going downstairs to grab a late-night treat. He often took Sherlock’s things just for the pure joy of taking them and getting a rial out of Sherlock. Mycroft always said that he was the smarter brother because of the way he liked to study people, seeing what actions caused certain reactions, but Sherlock wasn’t the one who was going to eat himself to death , so he believed he took that title for himself. 

As Sherlock crouched down to pick up the doll, he saw some small smudges on the old wooden floor. It was quite dark in the hall, but the boy swore they looked like tracks. Upon closer inspection, it seemed like it had been only one mouse and it’s trail led from Sherlock’s room to out into the hall.

Sherlock grabbed his doll ,  scurried back to his room to retrieve a torch , and  followed the tracks through the house. With his new companion in had, he followed the fading trail into the darkness, finally reaching its end at the wall of the living room. Sherlock shone the torch around the edge looking for an opening or something but the wall was plain. After making sure this was where the trail led to he started knocking for a hollow spot. 

Sherlock was immediately greeted with success when his knuckles felt a dent in the plaster wall. He let his thin pale fingers follow the crease and traced out rectangle along the wall. He pushed on the center of the shape and felt it shift slightly and move back into place. 

_ A door,  _ he thought. Sherlock used his nails to cut through the wallpaper and pulled on the edge of the door. It didn’t budge. Trying again from the other side the boy was met with the same fate.

_ There must be a lock _ _. _

Sherlock felt around the door and found a dip in the wood, the keyhole. He quietly sneaked into the kitchen , remembering the landlady telling his parents that all the keys to the house were kept in there. It was only the  brunet’s second try when he found the drawer he was looking for. It was filled with at least thirty keys , and Sherlock didn’t have the time or patience to try them all. He shuffled the contents of the drawer around hoping that one would stick out to him - it was a long shot , but to the boy ’ s surprise , that’s exactly what happened.

It was a solid black key that looked just as old as the house around him. It look ed like a skeleton key  with a button replacing the clover bow . Sherlock examined the odd key under his torch for a moment ,  and he somehow knew deep down inside him that this was the key for the small door.

The lanky boy rushed over to the door again and shoved the key into the lock. He closed his eyes, took in a breath, and twisted the key.  _ Click.  _ Sherlock pulled the door open and saw nothing but darkness on the other side of the opening. Without realizing what he was doing, the boy left behind his torch and doll and crawled into the mysterious darkness. As soon as his whole body was inside the dark tunnel , Sherlock’s stomach dropped, and he let out a soundless scream, falling freely into the dark. .

~

Sherlock shot up awake from where he was and smacked the back of his head against his bed frame. He grabbed the back of his head and felt the bump forming, along with a cold sweat that he had from his dream. The boy ’ s heart was still racing and his breathing labored

The  brunet check ed his surroundings to see where he was. Books were  strewn about the floor in front of him, an untouched bed behind him, and stacks of boxes filled the rest of the room. The new house \-  he had forgotten all about the move because of the dream.

_ The dream _ _. _

Sherlock’s eyes widened as he recalled his eerie dream from last night. Everything had felt so real that i t was hard to believe it was a trick of the mind. He ran his hand through his black curls in an attempt to calm himself down. Sherlock put his hand down beside him and felt something soft underneath it - the doll  from John .

It had gone from the chair next Sherlock’s unused bed to  the  floor space right next to him. Sherlock stared down at the object and felt something inside him recoil at the sight of it.

_ Why does it seem so creepy all of a sudden _ _? _

A shiver traveled down Sherlock’s spine and he took his eyes away from the doll. He stared  at the ceiling and took deep breaths.

_Don’t be ridiculous_ _,_ _Sherlock_ _._ _S_ _elf_ _-_ _aware doll are things of fiction._

Still, the thought didn’t help take away the tight feeling in his stomach. In an attempt to reassure himself, Sherlock looked through the boxes in his room until he found a container he usually used for his experiments. The boy locked the doll inside the jar and shoved it under his bed.

_ Out of sight _ _ , _ _ out of mind, _ he thought. Sherlock looked over at the clock that hung over his bed and saw that it was almost noon.

_Shit, I’m running late._ The boy quickly threw on a shirt and some trousers and rushed downstairs. He was almost out the door when something pulled him to the living room. He looked over at the wall that he had walked to in his dream last night and look at the space where the door would have been. Sherlock stood there for a few seconds pondering the possibility of a secret door. He shook the thought out of his head and continued out the door to meet his new friend at the well.


End file.
